


And Waste the Time Together

by Ambrose



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, Romeo e Giulietta - Ama e Cambia il Mondo, Romeo to Juliet - Takarazuka Revue
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Grief, M/M, Post-Canon, but also Hope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 08:16:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2060742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambrose/pseuds/Ambrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Prince decided to choose the heir to the Capulet fortune herself. Not everyone agrees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Waste the Time Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Astray](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astray/gifts).



> Headcanon for fem!Prince is Mizuki Ryou from the first Takarazuka production. Others are mostly from the Italian prod but you can always use your own :D
> 
> This is a short text I wrote a while ago, thought RetJ Week was a good time as any to put it out there.  
> Title is from the Merchant of Venice.

Benvolio thought he knew the Prince quite well, but even so it came as a surprise. Not such a shock for him as for everyone else though – people would yell, call the Prince names and object to her rulings; but he knew it was a good move in the end.

Capulet, for one, wasn't happy. Benvolio had been asked to attend the meeting – he was after all the old friend of the Prince's nephew, and the new heir to the Montagues – and he wished he hadn't come. The old man contested every word of the decision, had called it a Montague ploy to destroy his business... but he didn't really have many other options, and when the Prince had threatened to cancel all his trade deals with other cities and prevent his merchandise from entering Verona, he had kept his last protests to himself and had given in.

Benvolio found he was the only one who didn't mind – hell, he even _agreed_ with the Prince's choice. Too much blood had been spilled by the families when they were left to rule for themselves; it was about time the Prince sorted things out. Benvolio could feel that behind the pretend agreement between the families that had followed the bloodbath, the residual anger was only waiting for a pretext to resurface. 

He felt guilty, too. Had he told Romeo, he wouldn't have interfered in the 'duel'. Had he been the one to break the news of Juliet's death, he could have kept Romeo from harming himself; had he contacted Juliet before she trusted that wretched monk and took drastic measures... He felt he had a responsibility in all this; he had to right the wrongs himself, and end the feud for good. He'd wanted, for some time now, to seek out the Capulet heir to build a peace of their own – only there were none, not until now. Juliet, Capulet's only daughter, had passed away with Romeo; she had only been engaged to Paris, and he also died anyway. If Capulet acknowledged her marriage with Romeo, he nonetheless wouldn't leave his fortune to the Montague family. Tybalt was gone as well – if he had not been crying then, Benvolio would have laughed at the mischiefs he and dear Mercutio might be making in the hereafter.

There was still Rosaline, but she was the child of Capulet's younger brother, and a woman at that: she was way behind on the waiting list, in the old man's opinion. He'd have married her off to some random merchant and named  _him_ heir before thinking of her as a suitable candidate. But the Prince thought otherwise and named her the heir without taking his opinion into account. The city had been troubled for too long, to let its new-found peace depend on the whims of yet another merchant. Capulet had yelled some more at Benvolio – he suspected it was much easier than defying the Prince herself – and stormed off. 

He had met her before – not when Romeo had been enticed with her, because by then he spent half his time comforting his cousin and the other keeping Mercutio from getting killed – but in the churchyard, as she visited Juliet and Tybalt, but also Mercutio, Romeo and Aunt Paola. They had shared memories, but she also knew when to stay silent. She had known more than he thought anyone did except him – known about the other tragedy, the one none ever talked about. If Romeo and Juliet had thrown caution to the wind when they'd fallen in love, others had been more discreet. Even Romeo didn't suspect a thing – but Benvolio was in on it, and apparently so was Rosaline. Indeed when he next her after the Prince's edict, she was putting white lilies on Juliet's tomb and red roses on Tybalt's and, as if it were the most natural thing to do, reserved a lily for Romeo's and a rose for Mercutio's.

She sat next to him on the bench opposite Mercutio's grave, a black stern thing, nothing like the man he had been. They were alone in the churchyard – it was Sunday and the others were all attending Mass, but Benvolio shunned churches since he'd learned of friar Lawrence's involvement in his cousin's fate. He never really cared what people said – or he did, but then he tried to imagine how Mercutio would have laughed it off, or how Tybalt would have dared them to say it to his face – and it gave him all the strength he needed to keep his resolution.

“I always wished we lived in a world where they didn't have to hide,” she said, almost apologetically. “And now I wish they could rest together.”

There was a silence. Benvolio couldn't take his eyes off his friend's grave. Mercutio had never cared about the world, he always had it his way. He'd been quiet about it only for Tybalt's sake. He'd had a thing for impossible relationships, that was for sure. He'd seemed to know right from the start that it would bring them to their death, yet he hadn't thought twice about it, and had tried to make the most of what he was given.

“I heard you were there...” He turned slowly to look at her when she hesitated. “When the Prince announced it.”

“Yes, she asked me to come. I'm sorry if it made it more difficult with your uncle.”

“He'd have found another reason to be mad – and of course he's not happy about it, but I'm not sure I am either.”

As he raised a quizzical eyebrow, she explained: “I'm glad I don't _have to_ marry the likes of Paris, sure – though I'll probably have to if I want some respectability anyway; but I'm concerned about managing the family estate. I don't know anything about that; Uncle expected Paris to take his place, or Tybalt at the very least. I have no clue what I'm supposed to do, and he certainly won't teach me.”

“That makes two of us. My own uncle can't stand the idea that anyone other than his son will take over. He has nothing against me, but he doesn't feel capable of showing me the tricks of the trade. Not that he gave Romeo any attention either. Auntie kept the family together...”

“Well,” she said shyly, “we'll figure it out together?”

  
  


And if he'd wake up next to her a few years from then, it was no one's problem but their own. However much other people disapproved, as heads of the most important families of Verona they could very well do what they please. Even if she was married, and to another, at the Prince's request and for the sake of convenience. Valentine knew, but didn't really mind. He did have some affection for his wife, but much like his late brother he had a preference for men, and was glad someone kept her company if it meant he didn't have to. This marriage was as much to keep up appearances on his side too.

Now the two families were united in all but in names, and when together they put flowers on their friends' graves, they could at last tell them that the feud was ended for good; that their loves would live on in everyone's memories as the spark that lit the fire that cleansed the city of its hatred.


End file.
